As teens we walked that road so many times,
The sand gets into everything it’s ground so fine,
From cars and trucks that travel by.

When a car or truck comes speeding by, the dust cloud rises way up high.
It settles oh so slowly down on everything, ofttimes even in your blinking eyes.

Orange grove right and orange grove left with barriers of weedy brush.
Walk on the side and you can hear the sound of old dry weeds as they crush.

Ghosts there were upon that stretch of citrus lined sand and clay,
Where even most adults would only walk by the light of day.

Before you hurt yourself with a hearty laugh,
Give me a chance to show it’s not a gaff.

Nighttime brought out the little creepy things,
These harmless things we knew could do no harm.

But larger sounds like footsteps keeping pace in the brush,
The kind of thing to bring conversation to a sudden hush.

‘What’s that noise?’ a new  friend once asked. ‘Just a noisy ghost, I guess it is’.
‘There’s no such thing’ he said to me,’you’re just giving me the biz’.

But when it was time for him to go back to his home,
He stood steadfast and would not go alone.

So we took a light to”show our way”
And started walking back again,
Toward his home at the end of day.

Crunching noise as we pace,
Makes the heart beat like it's in a race!

‘Wait! Let’s stop and check this out’.
Flashlight shines,  no help at all, though we shine it all about.

Never after that again did my friend go,
To my house without a ride, guaranteed both to and fro!